


#1: There are many ways to enter a pool. The stairs is not one of them

by Knitwritezombie (Missa_G)



Series: 100 Rules for Adults (That Clint Barton Never Learned) [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, previously posted on tumblr, swimming lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2373077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missa_G/pseuds/Knitwritezombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint has to learn to swim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#1: There are many ways to enter a pool. The stairs is not one of them

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr. I'm 1/4 of the way through, so I figured it was time to start posting these here.

Clint Barton never learned how to swim. It’s not like he really had the opportunity, growing up in the circus and all. Oh, sure, he’d bathed in his share of creeks and cricks and ponds, but he’d never learned properly how to do more than dog paddle or stay afloat.

That, apparently, was about to change, as Clint pulled up his schedule for the day in the cubicle he’d been assigned, and found “swim lessons – gym – 10 am” added in place of his own scheduled “infiltration training” – his own personal code for “hide in the vents and shoot nerf darts at the trainees.”

He blamed Coulson.

So, he made his way to the gym, changed into the standard issue swim shorts (black, because SHIELD) with the logo on them (seriously? Weren’t they supposed to be a secret organization?). He grabbed a couple of towels and made his way to the pool deck. The men’s locker room entrance to the pool was on the deep end of the Olympic size pool that was used for everything from the occasional luau to diver training to physical therapy and the intramural swim and water polo teams.

Sitwell was waiting, similarly decked out in swim shorts, his glasses still in place. “Barton, get your ass in the pool,” he said with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’ve got to teach a grown ass man to swim.”

“Not all of us had the chance to be lifeguards and on the swim team, Jasper,” Clint shot back, tossing his towels neatly onto the bench as he headed for the stairs on the opposite end of the pool to wade his way in. Sitwell had gone to college on a combination of a swimming scholarship and ROTC.

“Barton, what the hell are you doing?” Sitwell asked after he’d only gone a few steps.

Clint stopped. “Getting in the pool?”

“You think mission parameters are going to let you ease your way into the pool?” Sitwell asked, taking a few steps forward.

“Are ‘mission parameters’ going to let me change into swim shorts and practice in a temperature controlled environment?” he snarked back.

Sitwell shrugged. “Probably not.” And then he shoved Clint into the pool.


End file.
